


Together, Apart

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Rough Sex, Sex, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:45:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1843126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <img/>
</p><p>(Ro_Nordman.  What else can be said?)</p><p>This is an angsty Jaime/Brienne story, but it's also writing exercise.  So please feel free to critique the writing and the style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time they meet is Brienne Tarth's second day at the Northern District Public Defenders' Office.  Catelyn Stark is short-staffed.  She is put on arraignment docket before Judge Lannister.  She knows his reputation.  He was a brilliant defense attorney who somehow lost the murder trial of Aerys Targaryen.  Rumor had it that he’d thrown the case.  It is only the pull of the his family name that got him a judgeship, albeit a minor one in the remote North.

She is representing a sex worker named Ros.  She argues that the complaint cites the wrong code section.  He jokes with prosecuting attorney Ned Stark about Ned's wife hiring the young and idealistic.  He chats with Ros about the kids.  Ros calls him ‘Judge Jaime’ and asks when his brother is coming back to town.  He eventually checks the statute and concludes she's right.  He dismisses Ros's case with prejudice.  She presents fourteen pending complaints with the same error and moves for dismissal of them all.  He grants her motion.  She's hailed as the Patron Saint of Prostitutes.

She's too good to be a PD in the North.  He reads the articles he can find about her.  She represented Renly Baratheon on fraud charges but filed a bail application too late for a same-day hearing. Renly was shivved that night in the local jail.  The boyfriend, Loras Tyrell, blamed her for Renly's death.  She was off the radar for six months before turning up in the North.

It's Ned who suggests he rent out the apartment over his garage to her.  She's living in a rat trap in Mole’s Town, an hour from the office.  The apartment is clean, close and he offers her cheap rent.  She hesitates but Catelyn tells her not to worry, no one will think anything as she works in a District where the prosecuting attorney is married to the public defender.  She moves in but keeps her distance.  She declines his offer of a ride to work and calls him ‘Judge’ or ‘Your Honor’ when they meet in the garage. He laughs and calls her ‘Counselor.’

When the weather gets too bad for her morning run, he offers her the use of his treadmill.  He lifts weights while she runs.  He starts making an extra smoothie every morning.  They talk about law school, their mutual hatred of Intellectual Property and Administrative Law.  She never runs on Tuesdays, the day she is before him on cattle call docket.  

He rents _The Trial of Elder Brother_ and invites her down to watch.  When the Dornish food arrives, he insists on paying, telling her it's too difficult to account for gifts received on his yearly judge's financial affidavits.  They stay up arguing all night.  There is a moment when their bodies are too close and their eyes lock.  She doesn't run the next day or the day after that.

The next time she’s on the treadmill, there's a man in his apartment, a dwarf.  She’s introduced to Tyrion, his younger brother. Tyrion suggests she come out to dinner that night.  She declines, citing judicial ethics.  She runs every day that week but there are no smoothies waiting for her.  Once Tyrion has gone, the smoothies return.  She makes lasagna and brings some down to him.  He buys an extra steak and grills it for her.  They argue about motions to suppress and mandatory minimums.

The holidays arrive and she asks him for a ride to the Stark Christmas party.  They both drink too much wine and kiss goodnight. She gives him a first edition of Selmy's _Trial Practices_ which she claims to have bought cheap at a market.  He gives her a leather file bag custom-designed that costs more than a month of her salary but eases the ache in her shoulder. They kiss for the second time at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

On the first anniversary of Renly's murder, he finds her crying on the back porch.  He leads her to his bedroom. They make love, softly, sweetly. When she thinks that he has fallen asleep, she leaves his bed.  She's on docket before him the next day.  His eyes are cold when he asks her if there's any reason her case cannot proceed.  She says she’s ready for trial.  It's a bad case. Her client has no defense but refuses to take the offered plea bargain.  He rules from the bench, guilty as charged.  They fuck that night, hard and fast.  She's gone when he wakes.

She brings over pizza.  They fight about pending criminal sentencing revisions.  She rides him on the floor of his kitchen.  If it’s safe and he wants her to come over, he leaves the door from the garage to the kitchen open.  She comes over only when she wants.  They cook or order in and fuck. He tells her to call him by his name in bed, what he hates most about being a judge is losing his identity.  She screams his name when she cums. He leaves the door open every night. She always comes down.

On her birthday, he comes home with a bottle of expensive wine.  Instead of waiting for her, he goes up her apartment.  She's sitting on the floor surrounded by files and crime scene photographs.  They argue about his invasion her privacy and her obsession with a long-dead client.  That night when they fuck, she ties him to the bed and rides him at her own pace with no consideration for his pleasure.  It exhausts them both.

A few weeks later, leather handcuffs arrive in the mail.  They are easier on his wrists. They come with anal beads for him and a vibrator for her. They experiment.  She enjoys it more, cumming so hard she almost passes out.  When he tries cuffing her, she fights her own body.  It frustrates them both.

He asks her to go away for the weekend.  She refuses, too afraid they will be caught and their careers ruined.  He promises to be careful, they'll go somewhere that no one knows them.  It takes a month of badgering but she finally agrees.  They are comfortable and free.  She tells him about the deaths of her mother and brother.  He tells her about his estrangement from most of his family. They laugh in bed.  For the first time, they wake up together.

The day they return there is a news report on an attorney in The Reach who was disbarred for sleeping with a client.  She doesn’t come down that evening.  The door is closed the next.  On the fifth night, they meet in the garage.  He destroys the closure of her bra; she rips the buttons off his shirt.  She bends over the hood of his car.  He fucks her from behind.

The night before she’s to leave for vacation in Tarth, he asks her to stay.  She pretends not to hear him and goes back to her own bed.  She takes a pregnancy test the first night she’s at her father’s house.  She’s relieved and disappointed when it’s negative. She meets with old friends in the Stormlands.  She hears new information on Stannis Baratheon and the mistress, Melisandre, information about Renly’s murder.

When she returns, it’s to an empty house and a note.  Tyrion has decided to elope.  He’ll be gone for the next four days.  She spends those days alone, scouring her files.  She tries to make connections.  She’s too far away from her sources.  The guilt begins to eat at her.  

When he returns, he’s playful and relaxed.  They make out on the couch like teenagers.  She insists she’s not ticklish; he proves her wrong.  She retaliates by covering him with whipped cream, then licking if off.  She plays with her nipples while she rides him. He tells her she’s beautiful.  The kitchen door remains open.  She comes down every night, but returns to her own bed to sleep.

The next time she cuffs him, he knows she’s faking her orgasm.  She licks him clean then leaves, claiming an early appointment. She stops letting him taste her.  She lavishes attention on his cock.  She pulls his hands away from her cunt.  He cums every time. She doesn’t cum at all.

It’s Ned Stark who tells him that he’ll soon have a vacant apartment.  She’s applied for a position in King’s Landing.  Ned provides her a reference. It’s likely she’ll get the job.  He takes her on his kitchen table and still she denies herself the pleasure of it.  He’s furious when she leaves.

She brings him dessert the next night.  He leaves it in the kitchen and cuffs her to the bed.  He brings her close with his lips and tongue and then moves to her breasts.  She calms down and he does it again.  The third time he denies her release she begins begging.  He denies her twice more before telling her that her cunt cannot lie to him; he’s tired of her pretending; if she doesn’t want to cum, he won’t let her.  He offers to keep her on edge all night.  It takes four more times before she’s pleading with him and offering him anything, everything.  He lets her orgasm by dragging the head of his cock across her cunt.  She sucks him off before her uncuffs her.  They don’t fuck.

She’s tentative the next night, unnerved by the change in their dynamic.  He’s demanding, almost brutal with her body.  She cums every time.  He leaves marks and bruises on her breasts and thighs.  He makes sure her cunt aches.  She leaves marks of her own on his shoulders and back.  She is no longer gentle with his cock.  They fight to see who can finish first.  Their bodies throb from the exertion.

Her resignation is announced.  She’s leaving in two weeks.  He comes to her apartment that night.  He warns her about Stannis and Melisandre and burning pyres of enemies.  She insists she has to find the truth.  They fuck in her bed for the first time. She doesn’t ask him to leave.  They are tender with each other as the sunrises.  He takes her again in the shower, shoved up against the tile, water spraying them both in the face.  Her legs are so weak she can barely stand when they finish.

He spends the next twelve nights in her bed.  He falls asleep inside her only to wake in the night half-hard, ready to fuck again. They are both chafed, worn raw but unable to stop.  She aches to feel him when they are apart.  He cannot imagine not being inside her.  

They spend her final night in his bed, her things packed and loaded on the moving truck.  He kisses every inch of her, finally kissing away the tears on her cheeks.  His own tears fall on her face as he looks down at her.  They hold off as long as possible before finishing together.  She is gone when he wakes.

 


	2. Apart, Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I had to fix the angst. However, part two might actually be more angsty.
> 
> I kept to the same rules as chapter one. It's remains an uncomfortable and staccato read, but at least the ending doesn't suck. Much.

Her position in King's Landing is all responsibility and no authority. She spends her days working and her evenings investigating. She is hollow and driven. She makes no new friends, but earns herself a few new enemies. He is sad and empty. His dockets no longer fun. He is considered fair but quiet. No more jokes with Ros. No more dinner with the Starks. Both their beds are empty.

They try to talk on the phone. Neither knows what to say. Their boundaries never got defined. Even the exchange of legal war stories is stilted. While her research fills her time, his evenings are blank and cold. He spends his holidays welcoming a new nephew into the world. She spends hers with her father by the sea. They stop even trying.

Hyle Hunt isn't the worst of her new colleagues, which says little. She is surprised to find herself attending dinners and openings and more surprised to find she is not attending alone. She certainly does not expect to see him when she’s on a date. He has come for her, furious to find her with another man. They meet in the cloakroom. For the first time in her life, she is grateful to be wearing a dress. He drives his cock inside her brutally. She clutches him to her. He shoves her shredded panties in his pocket as they leave.

He wants to walk boldly with her through the hotel lobby. She wants to hide. Alone in the elevator, he drops to his knees and pulls her leg over his shoulder. She tastes of them both.  He lifts her, ready to carry her to his room this way. She cums before they reach his floor. They don't make it to the bed. It leaves bruises on her back and rug burns on his knees. The third time is slower but still desperate. With his cock inside her, he demands to know if she has let another man touch her. It's the wrong question at the wrong time. She should be angry. She should push him away. She screams her answer instead.  No one else, never anyone else.

Long-distance is impossible, but it's better than nothing at all. No matter what he says, she will not come back until she has avenged Renly. He will have to face Targaryen justice if he comes to her. She will not let him. It’s his turn to make a decision without her. Tyrion helps him beg Daenyres’s forgiveness.  His offer of truce is accepted, but he will still be punished.

He is sworn into a minor judgeship in Kingsmoot. It is beneath his skills, but it is all he is allowed. It’s the worst court in Westeros. The attorneys are terrible and the docket is backed up for years. It will take him years to catch up. Her job is miserable as well, but at least they have each other. Living together is difficult at first, especially for her. People wonder why her and when it started. She’s a better attorney than he is. They still call her his whore.

She works harder than anyone else, trying to prove herself. He tells her it does not matter. She knows better. It beats her down every day until she is tired of discretion. If she’s called a whore, she’ll act like one. She fucks him in his chambers, not caring who hears. He fucks her on his desk, his bench. She rides him on both counsel tables. Their attempt on the witness stand ends in knotted limbs and laughter. She’ll face the dirty looks and cruel whispers.  He has already given up enough for her.  She is the one keeping them here, near her sources, near the truth.  

The first death threat makes her feel validated. She is sure she is getting close. She shows it to him with pride.  He reacts with fury. He tries to convince her to stop. She owes nothing to a dead man. Her life is worth more than Renly’s death. She failed in her duty. She is the one responsible. She tries to leave. He throws her suitcase against the wall. They wind up fucking in the hallway. His cock yearns for her. Her cunt is slick with need. She makes him a promise, but it’s not enough.

The second death threat sends him to his father. He gets a name for free, but refuses to exchange his soul for protection. The name is a good one. She did nothing wrong with the bail application. It was was timely filed but purposefully lost. Someone arranged for Renly to stay in jail; someone arranged the murder. He waits four days before telling her. She does leave that night, angry and betrayed. She comes back the next day. She cannot do this without him. Every day they fight and every night they fuck. His fears make him tender. Her anger makes her rough. Neither is happy.

She tracks down one lead, then another. She buys a test but does not need to take it. She knows by the changes in her body. She has something else to protect now, but she is too close to stop. Finally she finds a witness, Gendry, a boy, a bastard, young but brave enough to talk. A warrant is issued for the arrest of the Red Woman. He takes her to dinner to celebrate, relieved that it is over. She smiles at him as she passes a hand over her wineglass. His eyes widen. It is such a perfect moment that they don't notice the screams.

The second bullet takes his hand. The first takes something far more precious. Davos Seaworth would rather eat a gun than be taken alive; loyalty to Stannis is absolute. The reports say two injured, one dead. They know it is two and two.

He fends off nurses as he makes his way to her hospital room, dragging his IV and oxygen tank. He crawls in bed with her. They are a snarl of bodies and tubes and leads. Tyrion arrives with guards and specialists and bribes that let them stay together. They keep the room dark, unable to face each other, unable to be apart. He treats her like glass, but it is the trauma to his body that is greater. Guilt fills the emptiness inside her.

She takes him home and strokes his hair as they watch the news reports. It is a slaughter. Everyone associated with Stannis Baratheon is dead. He knows it is his father’s henchman, Bolton and Clegane. Protection for a lover has a price; the loss of a grandchild cannot be borne. It doesn’t make anything better. They cry alone in each other’s arms.

She cannot go back to her old job.  He fights his physical therapy. They are too much together, too far apart. They rarely speak, sharing a bed but never touching, never talking. He moves his pillow to the spare room. She moves it back. He reaches for her with a hand that no longer exists. She won’t look at him, afraid to see the blame in his eyes. They avoid friends and family.  Words do not make it better. They can only try to go on.

He returns to the bench. She stays at home and writes. Everyone should know what happened and she has to find a way to let it go. They try to take comfort in routine. She cooks and cleans. They eat in silence. He begins working long hours, avoiding her. They drift until the tension overwhelms them. She cannot finish her book. She does not know how it ends. When they do fall in bed, they are both too exhausted to feel. This time, she's already so far gone that he does not notice when she starts pulling away.

She thinks about leaving without a word, but she owes him more. She waits in his chambers to tell him she is taking a new job, moving away. It’s a chance at a new life. Their fight in the courthouse becomes legend. His gavel bounces off the newly installed bulletproof glass. A bookshelf is knocked over. Two lamps are smashed. A stapler is shattered. They leave scars on the walls. They come together in fury. How can can he still want her after all she’s done? How can he be so stupid as to think it is a hand that makes him whole? It is a frenzied, heartbroken fuck.

The Quiet Isle suits them both.  She is the one on the bench now. He opens a small private practice.  They put themselves back together in fits and starts. Their coupling is clumsy and new, tentative and afraid. He forgets he has no hand and bumps her temple. She’s shocked by her own laughter. He is ashamed of his lack of grace. She flips him over. She rides him slowly, completely, staring into his eyes. Her cunt remembers him. His cock never forgot. They cum together. He begins calling her ‘Your Honor’ in bed. She likes it far more than she should. It isn’t long before the burning need for each other returns.  

They wed the next spring. The ceremony is small. Her father walks her down the aisle and kisses her forehead. At her insistence, his father is invited to the gathering afterwards. She does not know how to say thank you for vengeance. She does not know if she should. A nod and a cool handshake suffice.

Their wedding night is typical. Her feet are aching and he’s had too much to drink. He falls asleep with his head on her stomach. He wakes in the dark to feel her warmth beneath him. He tastes her skin. She wraps herself around him. It is as soft and sweet as their first time, only this time, there are no shadows.

She is big and ugly and round. She is certain he won’t want to touch her. She wants to cry so she fights instead. He is at a loss to please her. He tries food and she yells at him. He tries compliments and she threatens to move him to the couch. He rubs her feet and tries to hide his stiffening cock. He kisses her ankle and she moans. He runs his hand up her leg and her hips shift towards him. He grins in surprise. It is difficult and slow, better for her than for him. He does not care. He always wants her.

  
They rest on a blanket in the grass eyeing the sandbox and the clouds. He runs his hand up her thigh. She kisses his neck. Their desire has never abated. Little voices interrupt. Brienne is tasked with repairing broken kites while Jaime bandages skinned knees. Always now, they are together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm grateful to everyone who managed to read this. Once I post it, I may never look at it again.
> 
> Writing this way, no dialogue, pronoun restriction, all of it, has been a fucking nightmare. I'm glad I did it though.
> 
> Now I swear, I'm getting back to writing smut and comedy and snappy dialogue, the things I like.

**Author's Note:**

> I prefer to only ever write dialogue and I hate writing in the present tense. A friend gave me a writing assignment with these rules:
> 
> 1\. Only use the names Brienne and Jaime once.  
> 2\. Every time him/her or he/she is used, it must refer to Jaime/Brienne.  
> 3\. Must be in present tense.  
> 4\. Absolutely no dialogue.  
> 5\. Done in twenty-four hours to prevent me from obsessing about it.  
> 6\. No beta to fix it for me.
> 
> So. There it is. I think it's probably a B- based solely on my ability to follow the rules. If you find I've broken a rule, please let me know.
> 
> Edit of notes: Okay, I woke up this morning hating where I left this and I've started mentally drafting a Chapter 2. It's going to be angsty and awful, I can feel it.


End file.
